In love with Death
by Tayani
Summary: AU where Eric is human. Tumblr prompt and request fic for my dearest sister ;) It was on the field of ericas where they first met, and where they had fallen in love. But loving a Grim Reaper never even sounded like a great idea to begin with... Eric just wants to be close to the one he loves; Alan just really wants his records to be clean.


**AN: **After a long break, I'm back here in English, and with a new story! It's prompted by tumblr and my sister, and it's a gift fic for her.

Frankly, in my opinion for now it sucks, but please, give me some time to get back used to writing in English, and I hope it'll get better :-)

R&R! Enjoy! It's a rule! ;)

* * *

**In love with Death**

The first time Eric saw him was on a field of ericas.

Later, he would claim it was that exact moment that he had fallen in love. But the truth is, he never had any need for falling. He must have been in love with this beautiful stranger since the time begun.

The man Eric saw stood alone, seemingly lost in the vast meadow; his nimble, suit-clad silthouette a stark contrast on September evening sky, painted in red from sunset. His chocolate hair was dancing in the wind, and his fingers playing with one of erica flowers; the other hand was leaning on a walking stick – or at least that was what it looked like.

Eric wasn't sure just what he was doing there, standing, dumbfounded, in the middle of nowhere and outright stalking some stranger. It was Saturday evening and he was coming back home from his usual hike, sure, but for the first time in his life the tall, blonde man felt himself so utterly fascinated by someone he did not know.

It took just few more steps and all his courage to walk up to the stranger. Up close he was even more beautiful; slightly shorter than Eric, his features so delicate he almost looked femine, his eyes so impossibly green when he regarded the blonde with a questioning look.

"The flowers bloomed just yesterday. You're lucky you can see them like that." Out of all the things Eric could say to at least attempt in starting an intelligent conversation. Seriously. He almost wanted to slap himself, especially as the stranger regarded him now in even more confused manner. But soon those maddening green eyes brightened up and the blonde was gifted with a shy smile.

"I'm glad. These are my favourite flowers, and they truly are beautiful. Look, how they completely change the colour of the meadow, despite being so tiny."

"It's because there's so many."

The stranger chuckled, and Eric could not help smiling himself. It was a strange situation they were in; having a casual chat about flowers, while not even knowing each other's names. Speaking of which...

"Alan. Alan Humphries." the stranger said, outstretching his hand. The blonde took it, only then realising how small it was in comparison to his own.

"Um... I'm Eric Slingby."

"Nice to meet you, Eric." Alan went back to gazing at the meadow, though his face still bore that little smile. "It's funny... Did you know that those flowers are called ericas?"

The blonde shook his head. He was not really that into flowers to being with.

"It's also curious..." Alan kept talking in a conversational tone. "You know, you're right. When you take just one of these flowers, it neither looks good nor makes any difference in it's surroundings. But when you get a lot of them together... The meadow turns violet. It's curious, given that ericas are a symbol of solitude."

Eric did not know what to answer to that, so he opted for silence. And, curiously enough, being silent with Alan wasn't uncomfortable at all. If anything, Eric felt at peace. The meadow stretched in front of them, bathing in last rays of sunlight; the wind was blowing lightly, as they simply stared at the landscape.

The hill they were standing at wasn't very high, but it still allowed them to see quite a bit of their surroundings. There was a little river, currently painted scarlet from sunset, and a sandy path crossing it with a little bridge. In the distance, a few houses could be seen at the end of the path, and there was an old man coming from that direction, gradually nearing the river. Whole picture had a peaceful, almost melancholic hue to it, and Eric smiled, turning his eyes to meet Alan's gaze.

"You're from around here?" the blonde asked, deciding to conjure some conversation between them. Alan shook his head with curious, almost amused expression on his face.

"Not really, no."

"Not a londoner, then? You look a bit like an office worker in the City type, you know, suit and all."

Another smile, another chuckle. "You can say I am an office worker, yes... Though not in the City. I visit London quite often, though."

"Business trips?"

"You can certainly say so. How about you?"

"Um... I work for a little company in the City myself. Nothing much, but you know, enough to get around."

Alan nodded, and went back to watching the landscape. His eyes seemed to focus especially on the old man currently crossing the bridge. Just then, Eric realised he really was too nosy. Alan probably did not want anybody disturbing his peace, and here he was, annoying stranger trying to patch up some conversation. The blonde almost groaned, but what could he do? The man was just so beautiful...

As he thought that, there came a loud noise from the river's direction; quick look made him realised, that the bridge must have crashed, throwing it's unlucky trespasser into the river. Eric shouted in panic and made a move to run to old man's aid, but a firm grip on his arm halted him.

"I got it. You call for some help."

And with that, Alan was gone, running faster than Eric could have imagined from his fragile stature. The blonde himself tried to calm down, pulling out his cell phone and desperately reaching to find signal. As he turned around, waving his phone as a madman, he did not see Alan swinging his 'walking stick' which appeared to have a blade on one end. Something like film tape surrounded the petitte brunete.

"John Grisham, born 24th August 1943. Died 10th September 2014. Cause of death: heart failure. No additional notes."

Green eyes looked back for a moment, searching the landscape for Eric's tall figure. He still had his back turned, phone pressed to his ear. Alan smiled and bowed his head slightly.

"It was nice meeting you, Eric Slingby. Very nice, indeed."

And soon there was nothing, but a corpse of an old man on the bank of the river, coloured scarlet from sunset.


End file.
